


Oikawa Tooru's Cake (No, not that kind.)

by hrhoikawatooru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Babysitter Oikawa, Babysitting, Baking, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Out of Character, i don't actually know it just feels out of character, no beta we die like men, wrote this at like 4am so i'm not actually that proud of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhoikawatooru/pseuds/hrhoikawatooru
Summary: “Hypothetically—”Iwaizumi immediately rolled his eyes at that statement but remained silent as Oikawa continued.“If someone were to bake a cake and say, for no apparent reason, the mixer suddenly decides that today was not it’s day and its contents exploded all over the kitchen… what would you do?”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	Oikawa Tooru's Cake (No, not that kind.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little quick fic I wrote because I could not stop thinking about Oikawa as a babysitter and how adorable the concept would be; as I said, just a quick fic so not much effort or critique was put into this but I hope someone enjoys it nevertheless! This is the first fic I'm publishing on here so feel free to leave some constructive criticisms. Love you all, muah <3 :) xoxo, hrhoikawatooru

The cellphone went to voicemail before Iwaizumi had the chance to answer. He sat at his desk, his legs folded in criss-cross applesauce as a textbook and notes were spread before him; his phone was charging at his bedside. Iwaizumi thought about getting up multiple times to retrieve the phone while it was still ringing… he thought about it, but he flagged his statistics homework as the more pressing matter. At this moment, no one of any significance would be calling Iwaizumi anyways; Oikawa was busy, he was babysitting. Plus, if it was truly important, the caller would make another attempt to catch Iwaizumi’s attention; seconds later the phone rang again.

Iwaizumi clicked the end of his pen in agitation as he glared at the ringing phone across the room. Sighing as he did so, Iwaizumi set his course materials back on his desk and went to answer whoever had enough nerve to bother him twice.

The screen displayed the contact Shittykawa along with an obnoxious selfie Oikawa had added himself.

Iwaizumi frowned at the screen, his thumb hovering above the illumination of his best friend’s shining smile. Oikawa was babysitting his nephew today; he specifically told Iwaizumi a number of times that he would be unavailable today and Iwaizumi would just have to find some other way to occupy his time. So why was he calling? The phone remained persistent in its ringing and Iwaizumi noticed his hand shaking as his heart rate picked up while his brain offered him the worst-case scenarios: Oikawa lost the kid, Oikawa set the house on fire, Oikawa got hurt.

That last thought was enough to shake Iwaizumi back to reality and he hurried to click accept.

“Oikawa—”

“IWA-CHAN!”

That whiny tone alone was enough to calm any nerves Iwaizumi was previously harboring. Oikawa was fine, quite fine, and annoying as ever.

Iwaizumi rubbed his forehead and headed back to his desk chair and statistics homework. He was too occupied with his relief and slight frustration that he hadn’t realized Oikawa had kept talking.

“Oikawa calm down and repeat yourself.” Iwaizumi heard a huff on the other end of the line and he struggled to suppress a smile as he added, “Please. Also, use your inside voice, you don’t want to set a terrible example for your nephew.”

“Hypothetically—”

Iwaizumi immediately rolled his eyes at that statement but remained silent as Oikawa continued.

“If someone were to bake a cake and say, for no apparent reason, the mixer suddenly decides that today was not it’s day and its contents exploded all over the kitchen… what would you do?”

Iwaizumi groaned and laid his head to rest on top of his textbook, “Did you seriously—”

“Ah-ah, Iwa-Chan. I said hypothetically. Answer the question, preferably as quickly and concisely as possible.”

“How bad is the kitchen?”

Iwaizumi could almost picture Oikawa’s smug facade dropping as the whine returned to his voice.

“My sister will be home in an hour and there are eggs and flour and, and–I don’t even know what all over her kitchen! Takeru is no help, the little brat.”

Iwaizumi’s stress levels increased just picturing the wretched state of the kitchen; poor Oikawa and his overwhelming need for everything to go his way and for it to do so perfectly stood no chance against an exploded cake.

“Oikawa, would you like me to come help—”

“I’ll text you her address! You’re a lifesaver, Iwa-Chan!”

Before Iwaizumi could catch a breath, Oikawa had hung up and sent a text stating the address of his sister’s house with a bunch of emojis following, one of which was what appeared to be a kissing face. Iwaizumi didn’t like the somersault feeling that gave his stomach, so he walked out the door with a deliberate pout.

—

Iwaizumi ringed the doorbell and was promptly greeted by Oikawa’s nephew looking a little worse for wear for all the flour covering his clothes.

“Uncle Tooru!” Takeru’s eyebrows rose and he looked wary as he took in the sight of Iwaizumi. “There’s a strange man at the door!”

Iwaizumi frowned.

In the distance, Iwaizumi could hear Oikawa shouting, “Damn it, Takeru! You can’t just open the door—”

Iwaizumi’s heart may have stopped beating for a solid minute once Oikawa finally approached. The sheepish smile plastered on the dumbass’s face provided no help for Iwaizumi’s cause.

“Oh!” Oikawa gently pushed Takeru back and gestured Iwaizumi inside. “Sorry about that.”

Iwaizumi’s heart fluttered as he took in Oikawa's form. He was dressed lazily in Aoba Johsai sweats and a white T-shirt long-since destroyed by eggs, flour, and chocolate cake batter. His glasses were smudged in so many places Iwaizumi didn’t understand how Oikawa even managed to see. His hair probably got the worst of the deal, heaps of flour seeming to fall out of it with every movement Oikawa made. Iwaizumi couldn’t begin to understand why this sight was making his stomach do backflips and his cheeks burn with a blush that he prayed was invisible.

“You look so fucking stupid.”

Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi, showers of flour following his rotation, “Mean, Iwa-Chan!”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but chuckle as he nodded his head forward in a silent gesture to move on. Oikawa guided him to the kitchen and Iwaizumi’s jaw dropped at the sight of the cake mixer disaster.

“Actually, I am gonna leave,” Iwaizumi said, as he attempted to flee only for his wrist to be caught in Oikawa’s hand.

“Noooo! No no no! Hajime, that’s not fair. You offered to help.” Oikawa puppy pouted.

“This,” Iwaizumi gestured to the chocolate cake batter covering practically every inch of the kitchen, “is a lot more than I bargained for.”

Oikawa looked only mildly disappointed, yet for some reason, he still felt compelled to swipe batter off the wall and smear it across Iwaizumi’s shirt. Iwaizumi had the instinctive response to slap Oikawa, the impact causing flour to rain down from Oikawa’s hair onto them both. Oikawa rubbed his cheek, but his expression clearly conveyed the great pleasure he took from Iwaizumi’s newfound messy appearance.

“Silly, Iwa-Chan,” Oikawa smirked, “I’m not letting you leave.”

Takeru decided to once again make his presence known, giving Iwaizumi the opportunity to turn his blushing face away from Oikawa’s cocky smirk. 

“Uncle Tooru, you’re gonna get in trouble! The kitchen’s dirty and you let in a stranger who hits people?”

Oikawa groaned exaggeratedly into his palms, furtherly dirtying and disheveling his glasses.

“Takeru, go to your room and change your clothes before your mother gets home.”

Takeru whined the whole way up the stairs and Oikawa suddenly looked terribly exhausted.

“She’ll kill me, Iwa-Chan,” Oikawa mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands which were once again over his face. “She’ll be pissed and won’t want me to babysit anymore.”

Iwaizumi faltered but reached to pull Oikawa’s hands away from his face, revealing two cake batter handprints on his cheeks left in their wake. This time Iwaizumi couldn’t possibly hide the blush that easily crept onto his cheeks; instead, he looked up at his best friend’s face and laughed wholeheartedly at such a ridiculous sight.

“Iwa-Chan.”

Oikawa’s pout persisted, but Iwaizumi’s blush and smile only grew as he kept eye contact.

“Hajime. I’m serious.”

Iwaizumi knew he shouldn’t, it could have terrible consequences. They were best friends, they were in Oikawa’s sister’s house, her son that Oikawa was supposedly babysitting was upstairs and could walk down any minute now; but Oikawa’s disheveled appearance—glasses sitting slightly crooked on his nose, his deep brown hair made an odd shade by the white flour, his lips covered in a thin layer of chocolate cake mix—led Iwaizumi far away from anything that was reasonable.

“Iwaizumi.”

“Tooru.”

Oikawa appeared to be shocked by the use of his given name, but not nearly as shocked as when Iwaizumi tugged on his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. It was a soft kiss and it didn’t last for very long, but it was sweet and pleasant and something that Iwaizumi never knew he needed until now. Oikawa stood appalled even when Iwaizumi pulled away, more still and quiet than Iwaizumi had ever seen him in his entire life. 

“The cake batter tastes good, Tooru,” Iwaizumi commented as he swiped the leftover cake batter off his lips, “too bad that it’s covering all the walls.”


End file.
